


Honor Bound

by skekshroom



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alien Culture, Bromance to Romance, Eventual Romance, FTM Reader, Friendship/Love, M/M, PTSD, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Reader-Insert, Trans Male Character, Worldbuilding, original alien race, sorta following canon but not exactly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:27:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21570784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skekshroom/pseuds/skekshroom
Summary: His guild and his clan have already been claimed by the past. But the future provides them both a new allegiance in the form of a foundling.
Relationships: Dyn Jarren/Reader, Kuiil & Reader, The Mandalorian & Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian/Reader, The Mandalorian/You
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna pretend like I remember any of my old star wars knowledge I'm just writing this cause I got a crush on Mando lol
> 
> 👉IMPORTANT NOTE: **(Y/n) is part of a made up clan I called Baserri! "House (L/n)" was hard to write with, and what better to call our farm gay reader than a type of farmhouse, right? Right.**👈

On this planet, food besides meat was scarce, but not impossible to find if you were a forager who knew where to look. Deep in the caverns of the desert, a fungus grew in abundance, and the roots of several plants could be excavated with precise digging. From all the scraping at the hardened dirt and sediment, the retractable claws in (y/n)'s gauntlet grew dull, but still remained formidable enough to slash open a small male blurrg. Carrying both his spoils, he headed home, but not without first stopping by Kuiil's hut and dropping off a generous portion of his daily findings.

  
It was an unspoken thing, (y/n)'s gifts.

The forager had before tried to offer the ugnaught food, a sign of respect and solidarity for helping him get situated on this planet, but of course Kuiil denied. He was naturally generous, never asking for anything in return, but (y/n) was hard headed and not having any of it. The younger man had tried to demand he take it, and ended up resorting to leaving it on the other's door step. He had tried to give it back once, but (y/n) purposefully allowed it to rot for days, and only cleaned it up when the ugnaught began to accept his offerings. (Y/n) was a stubborn colt, Kuiil could see that the day he crash landed there in an escape pod.

Today the old man didn't seem to be home, as his blurrg was gone from its pen. the forager began to put a pounds worth of mushrooms and the meatier half of the young bluurg into sacks when he spotted his neighbor riding closer on the horizon. The ugnaught had in tow two unconscious blurrg and... somebody walking beside him. A prisoner? A captor? No, if anything it was probably another bounty hunter; no doubt after whatever the hell was in that camp.

"(Y/n)!" Kuiil greeted, waving his hand. The man in question returned the wave, now more sure that the figure behind Kuiil, though not necessarily friend, was not a foe. Curious, he stood by as they took seats in Kuiil's tent.

This one was a Mandalorian. (Y/n) looked him up and down from behind his own helmet. Of course, the Mando was armed. A blaster, a rifle, and if the young man squinted, he might have caught a glimpse at a concealed dagger.

  
Some had confused (y/n) for a Mandalorian before as he wandered the cosmos, what with the helmet he rarely removed- but he was always quick to correct them. (Y/n) was of Baserri (l/n), a proud nomadic clan of which he was a surviving member. Perhaps the _only_ surviving member, but now was not the time of think of that.   
  
"Another hunter?" There was thinly veiled scorn in the forager's voice as he appraised the newcomer. Many had come through, seeking the same bounty every time. Each had perished- and there was no evidence that this one wont do the same. That's just how things were for mercenaries on this planet.  
"He seeks the same one as all the others." Kuiil nodded. The Mandalorian turned to (Y/n), who could sense eye contact being made from behind both of their helmets.

"Of course." He repeated his previous thought in his head as he set down the sacks and headed back outside. He could feel eyes on his back and turned to see the Mandalorian's helmet trained on his movement. He stared him down and left without another word.

' _What the hell is he looking at?_ ' (Y/n) thought. ' _...He must have me confused for one of his own or something_.' Why else would he be staring? To intimidate him? Out of fascination? Please.

(Y/n) considered for a moment removing his helmet, if only just to wordlessly make it clear how incorrect he was.  
"The blurrg are waking up." The baserrian said instead. "I'll go tend to them."

  
The bounty hunter watched him as he walked away, wondering if perhaps that was the last hed be seeing of him. There was an inexplicable curiosity that he dreaded. The last thing he needed was a distraction before a high stakes job- but fate had ways of presenting obstacles, didn't it?

\--------------

' _And he's up- and he's got it this time- and... Nevermind. On the ground again. Right then, attempt number 26_.'

(Y/n) watched and mentally narrated with concealed amusement as the bounty hunter was thrown off the blurrg mare for the umpteenth time. The disgruntled mercenary made his way over to where the two spectated from outside the pen, out of breath and patience.

"I don't have time for this." He huffed, and began rattling off other options of transportation that he could hail. (Y/n) stifled a chuckle.

' _As if this planet even HAS land speeders..._ '

"You are a Mandalorian!" Kuiil exclaimed. "Your ancestors rode the great Mythosaur! ....Surely, you can ride this young foal." The bounty hunter glanced between the blurrg and the two men.

  
"Perhaps you need to try a different approach." The forager piped up, drumming his gloved fingers against the side of the pen. "Use your head, Mando. This creature isn't your enemy." For a moment the hunter stared at him as he caught his breath, considering his options, before turning and slowly approaching the blurrg.

  
This time, instead of assaulting its back with more failed attempts at mounting it, he attempted to soothe it first. Surprisingly, it was responding well. Though still agitated, it was quickly calming down. Both spectators perked up in anticipation as he slowly walked around the mare.

  
"Think he's got it this time?" (Y/n) murmured to his neighbor. Kuiil nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the Mandalorian. (Y/n) too watched him as he quieted down the creature, and was surpised, not unpleasantly, to see him finally be able to get up on its back without being thrown off.

For a beginner, the Mando rode surprisingly well. (Y/n) studied him from the peripherals of his visor. Well built, focused; this hunter looked capable. There might actually be a chance he would succeed. He hoped so. Not because of any charm the Mando had on him, but because he knew the amount distress all the mercenaries caused his friend. Kuiil was infinitely patient, but he was more sick of all the carnage they brought with them than he'd let on. The sooner the revolving door of guns for hire stopped, the better. 

He remembered something the last merc left behind.

"Here, Mando, take this with you, just in case." (Y/n) rummaged through the pocket of his cloak and handed the guildsman a blaster. Their fingers briefly grazed against one another's. "Careful, it's loaded."  
"Where'd you get this from?" He turned it over in his hand. Sure enough the ammunition was full, as if it had been only scarcely used.

  
"The last hunter that came through here. They didn't last very long out there... Probably because they dropped this on the way to the encampment."   
"That would make sense." The Mandalorian said dryly, with a tint of a smile in his voice. (Y/n) chuckled, nodding.  
"Well, best of luck." He said, patting the flank of the blurrg as he stepped away.

"Not coming with us?" He asked. The young man tilted his head, the closest to a quizzical look as he could give.  
"There's no need." He cleared his throat, almost sheepishly. "However, uh- if you make it back, then go ahead stop by my hut for provisions before you take off. I'll pack you something for the trip back." The baserrian wasted no time leaving, but looked over his shoulder once as Kuiil beckoned the bounty hunter away. He watched the two ride off, hoping they'd both make it back.

\-------------

"(Y/n), what is he?" The Mandalorian asked as he rode alongside Kuiil towards the encampment. He couldn't quite place why, but the young man was on his mind. 

"Not a Mandalorian, if that is what you're curious about. He is of Baserri (l/n); an isolated people." The ugnaught replied. "Farmers and craftsmen mostly." The mercenary could tell he was't a Mandalorian, but he had never heard of Baserri (l/n). Baserri Garastazu, he'd heard of. Even Baserri Aldana. He wasn't aware there was a third clan in their circle. 

"The cape, is it ceremonial?" He asked.The ugnaught nodded slowly. Of course, every species had their own form of dress, but (Y/n) looked specifically out of place in the desert. His attire looked more like he was attending a wedding than surviving sweltering heat.  
"It is." Kuiil said. He elaborated no further, and the Mandalorian didn't press. Any further curiosities he had about the man he kept to himself.

It didn't really matter anyways. If he wasn't already pulling himself from his thoughts, the jolt from his blurrg mount jumping across a ravine did. He shifted what litte conversation they had for the rest of the ride to the bounty. If only to remind himself that he was, fundamentally, here for his client; no more no less. Yes, Kuiil and (y/n) were kind, and rewarding them with a restoration of peace was an added bonus, but he had priorities already that he would stick to. This was the Way.


	2. Chapter 2

At home, (Y/n) stood scanning the disheveled mess that was his storage. Everything looked... Derelict. Like it needed a wash or hadnthbeen used in millennia. He ignored it for now, instead rummaging through the supplies for the longest lasting food he could find to gift to the Mandalorian.

He paused. That is, if he decided to stop by. And in turn, that is if he even survived. 

"Might as well hope for the best." He muttered and packed several sacks of root bread and dried meat. But, as he turned to place it on the table, the bag swung and bumped into a decrepit shelf. A box tumbled from the top and its contents clattered to the floor. (Y/n) froze, realizing what had dropped. He knelt down, picking up ceremonial paints and hesitating before scooping up the orb, knot, and scepter. 

The sensation of the objects in his hand took him to places he'd rather not go.

Quickly, (Y/n) gathered up the items and placed them back on the shelf. It wasn't even close to the anniversary of his ritual. It was too early in the year to be thnking of this, to be losing sleep over this.

But he could never help it.

The baserrian clutched the elaborate fabric of his cloak. It was dusty, faded, but still felt the same as it had when he first donned it. Just as heavy.   
In his culture, there was an important ceremony of bonding. Two, maybe more of the clan would come together and be declared companions for life. This could be any kind of relationship- platonic, romantic, or otherwise. So long as they protected each other. 

(F/n) and him never got to complete theirs.

(Y/n)'s boots thudded against the desert floor as he stumbled outside. 

_'I need a walk_.' He thought miserably. ' _Badly_.'

As the young baserrian trudged through the sand, the sun began her movement westward. Memory tormented (Y/n), and he groaned and took in his surroundings before the stress began to give him a migraine. The sky was beginning to fade into twilight by the time he made out a figure on the horizon.

_'The hell is that?'_

The baserrian squinted and gasped. It was the bounty hunter. He was alive, and if the floating object beside him was any indication, he had actually been successful. There was a giddy disbelief that awoke inside. The Mandalorian had retrieved who-or what all the mercenaries before him were after. He actually did it. The stories of his people's prowess? Well, it looks like they were true.

Even more shocking, he was actually happy to see him. There was an odd sense of relief that flooded through him he wasnt sure he deserved. He tried to quiet down his thoughts, but it was a little too late. Any scorn he had for the hunter vanished in an instant. He was obviously highly capable.  
However concern took the front seat, as (Y/n) looked harder and made his way towards the bounty hunter, he could tell that he was hurt. 

(Y/n) quietly made his way closer.

"Hey." The forager murmured. In an instant, the other whipped around and had his blaster trained on him. (Y/n) held up his hands and waited patiently for him to lower his weapon. He did.  
The hunter was breathing heavily, bleeding from the arm and guarding the sealed white object behind him. (Y/n) watched the rising and falling of his shoulders with each ragged breath. He must have gone through hell to get his target. The forager knelt down, patting the ground in front of him. He kept supplies on him at all times, in case he got hurt somehow while perusing through the caverns. It would be no hospital visit, but it was the best medical attention at hand.

The bounty hunter hesitated, but plodded over and sat down. He watched the baserrian pull his first aid kit from the deep pockets of his cloak, and scoot closer as he irrigated the cut with a small pouch of water. Everything seemed to go quiet around them, as the blood no longer roared in their ears and the sound of the desert serenity finally settled in. 

(Y/n) squinted at what he was presented with, almost too preocupied by the state the injured mercenary was in to notice the way the vast expanse of the badlands felt somehow intimate; as if they were the only ones on this planet. Almost.

The wound bore haphazard burn marks. He must have tried to cauterize it, but being fresh from battle and probably losing much blood, his hand must have been shaking... or he'd been interupted several times. (Y/n) got the gash as clean as it could be, with water and disinfectant, then with a clean needle in hand he tilted his visor up expectantly.  
"Go ahead." The Mando grunted. He hissed in pain as the other began to stitch up the lasceration on his arm, but thankfully kept steady.

The wound was wrapped up carefully and when (Y/n) was finished, he gently but firmly held the Mandalorian at arms length and looked him over. Other than that one nasty scratch, he looked fine. (Y/n)'s eyes lingered on him, taking in the sight of him up close until he realized the other could tell that he was staring. Embarassed, he cleared his throat, averted his visor, and began to pack up his first aid kit. (Y/n) was thankful for his helmet, otherwise how ridiculous he must looked would have been the death of him.  
  


"Thanks." The Mandalorian said. (Y/n) glanced up at him once more and was taken aback. What a mistake he made, looking up at him from this angle. If he could have stopped himself from doing just that, he probably would. The lilac of the sky behind the Mando reflected an abstract painting of clouds and starlight on the strong curves of beskar. It was overwhelming, almost.

The forager slowly dropped what he was holding, mesmerized by the way the dusk inked the mercenary's imposing figure so delicately. Gods above, help him; his breath caught just as the starlight did on the edges of his armour.  
"Yeah," He choked out. "Don't mention it." Eloquent.

The Mandalorian said nothing, watching as the young man stood up, stuffing his first aid kit back into the deep labyrinth of his frilly cloak and posturing himself.  
"You should be getting back to your ship, yeah?" (Y/n) broke the silence as he dusted his knees off. "My house is on the way. The offer- from earlier. The offer is still on the table."   
Before the bounty hunter could answer, there was a whine from inside the floating orb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (y/n): ha! Losers gonna die like the rest of em.  
> Mando: doesn't die  
> (y/n):  
> (Y/n): 🌈🏳️


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for the lack of updates I have been ridiculously busy with commissions, school, work, convention prep, road trip planning, wedding planning (not me, I'm officiating and designing invitations among other things), and updating my webcomics. 
> 
> But at LAST we are here and we are ready to continue this adventure!!

"Its... A baby." (Y/n) blinked slowly as he looked into the cradle. "Your bounty is a _baby_."  
"I'm as surprised as you are." The hunter affirmed. The baserrian glared at him from behind his visor. He seemed awfully unconcerned with finding out the person he'd been paid to hunt was a child.  
"They said to bring it in alive." He offered, as if reading his mind.

(Y/n) sighed, handing the little one another morsel of food. It cooed and babbled in delight as it nibble away at it.  
"Maybe the ones in the encampment kidnapped it." He said. "It would explain how handsomely they're paying you... And how many they've sent to go retrieve it."  
"Maybe." He looked around at (y/n)'s living space. Everything looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. Sand and dust clung to every surface, haphazardly wiped away by handprints and the occasional smear of what Mando could only assume was his cape.  
"I mean, if it were me," (Y/n) muttered as he poured the child a clay bowl of clean water. "I would do the same."

"You have kids?" Mando watched the little one sip the water, its little hands dwarfed by the pottery.  
"Me? No, not yet."  
"I see. You and Kuiil...?"  
"What?" (Y/n) squawked. Realization dawned on him and he quickly shook his head. "No, Gods no! Kuiil is like a father to me." There was an ample silence that followed.

"Sorry. I misunderstood."  
"It's fine." (Y/n) glanced at him as he collected the empty bowl from the child. He let out a small 'tsk" and shook his head. "Aww, empty already... You were thirsty huh little one?"   
"Do you know how long he'd been in there?" He asked, refilling it.   
"I was assuming you did, you've been here longer than I have." Mando replied. (Y/n) tossed him a glance from over his shoulder.  
"I don't keep time very well." He set aside the once again empty bowl and began loading food medical supplies he accrued for the hunter into one large pack. "I assume they were tending him while he was there, though."

The child was hungry, and took generous portions. No doubt this meal (Y/n) provided was long overdue.  
"You don't take your helmet off in front of anyone, do you?"  
"No." The mandalorian said quickly. He was used to having this conversation by now. No, he didn't take the helmet off. No, he wouldn't not even for just a peek. It was a necessary formality for one of his people.

  
"There's curtains over there if you want to eat."  
There was a pause that (Y/n) didn't seem to notice as he wiped the baby's mouth. That wasn't the usual follow up to that question.  
"I'm okay... but thank you." Mando said. (Y/n) turned towards him and gave him a simple nod.

"Well, Mando... Daylight's starting to burn." (Y/n) sighed, looking out at the world outside his tent. Morning had long since came and went. The Mandalorian had stuck around for a lot longer than he'd anticipated. Not that it was a problem, it was still before noon; but once the sun hit its peak (Y/n) would be asleep. His polyphasic sleeping schedule demanded he hunker down and sleep away the hottest parts of the day, and sometimes the coldest. He stood up and scooped up the gifts he'd set aside for the hunter, beginning to guide him and his charge towards the direction of their ship.

The figure and the orb grew tinier and tinier on the horizon as the sun rose in the desert. Like the small animals in the caverns below, (Y/n) retreated to the shade. He sat at the table, watching through the open scraps of hanging canvas at the desert beyond.  
He produced a small knife and hunk of bone- a blurrg tooth, that he had contemplated carving. There were a few nicks in it already, but none of them inspired any image. He sat, drowsiness murmuring into his ear while he tapped the handle of his blade to the table. It was best not to carve while tired. Besides, inspiration might present itself later.

In his sleep, (Y/n) saw the bounty hunter. 

The dream was vague, and he remembered almost no details, but he knew he saw the Mandalorian. Perhaps he just saw the helmet, with no body attached. Not as if he had been beheaded, but as if he had just left it sitting there. It was covered in the same, gentle layer of desert dust that everything in his hut was. It just blended in with everything. And then, the floor opened up into blue stairs and he woke up with a start.

"I should see if Kuiil needs help." Was (Y/n)'s first thought after he arose. He stood up, donned his helmet, and stepped into the light. The heat of the desert permeated through his clothing, but at this point, he was used to it. The forager's cloak shaded him as he made his way to the nearest cavern, and entered through a steep passage way he had carved out of the stone with his gauntlets. He skidded down into the ravine and his tattered moccasins hit the ground with a thump. 

The air wasn't so stagnant down here. The wind was dry and cooling through the dark caves, and the way it wafted through (Y/n)'s helmet was nothing short of refreshing. His tracks left from prowling these tunnels formed the path he followed directly to the ugnaught's place. 

  
The ugnaught in question looked over as a helmet popped up from the ground.  
"Hey." (Y/n) said as he began to crawl out from underground. The heat of the sun immediately was on him as he dragged himself from the rock. "Got any jobs for me today?"  
(Y/n) often helped out with various chores on the moisture farm. Firstly because the payment was in water, and you could never have too much of that. Secondly, because it kept him from boredom on a quiet planet. (Y/n) was young and it was unsurprising he needed to get his energy out. Fixing mills and feeding blurrgs were better outlets than the more dangerous pursuits the young man once took part in. Those mostly being picking fights. Bounty hunters, Jawa, raiders, even blurrg- anyone who came to close to his territorial claim was an adversary to beat or get beaten up by.

  
Today, there was simple bent pipe that Kuiil gave him the tools to fix. It would take him some hours, replacing the pipe and fixing the old one to be used again. It gave him the strangest sense of deja vu, but he got to it gladly.

(Y/n) remembered when he was new to the planet, and he lay in the shade in the mouth of his escape pod. He was panting in the heat that he was far from accustomed to when he saw a ship crash in the distant dunes. The sun would be going down, but he was curious and wanted to see what he could find... and take. (Y/n) wasn't the most powerful. He wasn't the fastest, or the most tech savvy. But when it came to walking distances, his stamina was unrivaled. He walked without pause for miles until he got to the dunes, and immediately got to ransacking it for resources to build a shelter. He was unsurprisingly met with Jawa competition, which he didn't mind until they came close to his own stash. He lashed out with a warning, hiding his smaller spoils in his coat. (Y/n) dragged pieces of the ships towards his own escape pod, and set up a poor excuse for a shelter. It wasn't impressive by any means, but he could at least now lay down as he panted like an overheating animal. 

Night fell, and somehow the pilot of the ship had survived and had tracked down their items to the small shelter. The pilot looked around with their flashlight while (Y/n) hid in the shadows, lurking behind them. (Y/n) let out a rattle from deep in his throat that set the pilot off. They drew their blaster and _that_ had set (Y/n) off. There was a flurry of light and frantic screeching and the sound of scraping and slashing. (Y/n) shook the blood off his gauntlet claws, dragging the pilot off and tossing them into the trench below. Barely a day had passed when a bounty hunter, a Gran no doubt searching for the pilot had startled an already on edge (Y/n). The fight that resulted was bloody and loud enough to alert the Kuiil. 

Bodies had been looted and discarded in the valley and as he approached a disoriented, frightened, and exhausted )Y/n) the young baserrian had at first lashed out to attacked him before he realized who he was. It turned out that the first pilot had a fob on him and the stream of interlopers had been bounty hunters. Kuiil explained what had happened to the next hunter who came through, who later sent a small share of credits for getting the job done for her. 

An important question in opening your mind before opening fire. 

To keep him out of trouble and to make up for the trouble he caused, Kuiil had him fix a bent pipe.

In the present day, his task was just about wrapping up when he heard the ugnaught conversing with someone.

"Mando, you're back." (Y/n) trotted up the two. "What happened?"  
"Jawas stripped my ship. I'm stuck here, but Kuiil says we can get those parts back." He recaps for him, sounding less than thrilled about the whole situation. "I don't see how. I've already tried getting into their fortress, but the walls can't be penetrated."  
"I don't doubt it." Said (Y/n) simply. He looked around, locating the baby. It was toddling around after a frog on tiny legs. It cooed, and pounced on the small animal, bringing it into it's mouth. (Y/n) lit up with alarm.  
"Hey!" The Mandalorian hissed. "Spit that out." The baby, however, did just the opposite and swallowed the amphibian whole. It looked towards the bounty hunter as if to make some kind of statement, or just out of curiosity. The bounty hunter sighed.  
"When can we leave?" He asked.

\----------------------------------------

"Weapons are part of my religion."

(Y/n) shot the bounty hunter a look, not that he could really tell.   
_'This fool was lucky the Jawa were so easily bribed, he had really just invoked the wrath of an entire hive, and now he wont even disarm himself to get those parts back?'_ (Y/n) thought grimly. _'It's like he didn't even want them or something.'_  
"They're not even going to let you close with that thing on your back." (Y/n) pointed to his rifle, and dipped his finger to his blaster. "And that too. Weapons at the door."  
"I don't think so." The hunter said.   
"Guess we came all this way for nothing, then." The forager shrugged and leaned forward, propping himself up by the elbow. The Mandalorian stared for a good second before looking back at the Jawa that murmurd warily amongst themselves. He considered his options carefully, running contingency plans in his brain and keeping the safety of his bounty a top priority. He glanced at (Y/n) and Kuiil. They could handle themselves... but if the Jawa were as spineless as they made themselves seem, then they might attack the two if things went south. He might opt for protecting the ugnaught first... (Y/n0 looked capable of dealing some damage.

"Well, I'm gonna go trade." The forager in question said, hopping off his mount. "Come join us when you are ready."   
He sat down and began to converse in Jawa. He must have been offering his surplus of edible roots and mushrooms for whatever goods the Jawa could provide.   
He seemed delighted to see the bounty hunter plop down beside him when he'd finally given in to the idea of negotiating..  
The negotiations were difficult, but not impossible. The Jawa offered to accpt different things off of the hunter, his beskar armor, which Kuiil denied them before the mandalorian even had a chance to; and then they offered to take the child. The bounter hunter quickly snapped at them, and (Y/n) stood up. The bounty hunter tensed, wondering what he was going to do. He went over to the cart where the child sat in its crib and didn't move. When a Jawa came near he only stood taller and stepped at them gently, a warning. He was standing guard. The mandalorian felt a twinge of gratitude. 

(Y/n) didn't really think that the Jawa was stoop to kidnapping right in front of a lethal hunter, but it gave said lethal hunter some peace of mind. He seemed to relax a bit, so he took it that it worked. 

Finally, though, after a quick but tense back and forth, they came to an agreement. The mandalorian would get his parts back in exchange for a highly sought after commodity: the egg.


End file.
